


Premonition

by NortheasternWind



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Family, Friendship, Gen, Reaper recognition angst basically, Reunions, emotional fallout to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NortheasternWind/pseuds/NortheasternWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of Tekhartha Mondatta's assassination, Genji travels to London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Premonition

For such an energetic woman Tracer was proving hard to find. She had been an ardent admirer of Tekharta Mondatta, and upon hearing news of its passing Genji had been struck by the sudden urge to console her. She had even been in the city when it had happened, and if the rumors he'd heard were true then she must be feeling miserable indeed.

Perhaps that was why she was making herself scarce. It was in her nature to seek out others, but there must be those who saw only her distinctive chronal accelerator and held her responsible for the death. The thought almost made him hot with anger, but he supposed it wasn't their fault. Anyone who could thwart Tracer could certainly avoid detection as well.

If she was smart (and she was) there would be no way for Genji to find her short of simply checking her favorite haunts one by one, so he resigned himself to slowly crawling his way through the massive city of London. Much of it was quieter than expected, but King's Row—where Genji had decided to make a quick stop, to pay his own respects—was not. Most of the area was still roped off for investigation and there was something of a crowd, protestors and mourners gathered to look upon the place where Tekharta Mondatta had died.

Behind his faceplate Genji frowned. To make a shot like that… With his gaze he traced the path the bullet must have taken, and climbed swiftly up the side of the building which was the closest match.

No… Here was where the explosion had taken place, moments before Mondatta's death. The assassin could not have been standing here when they made the shot. Perhaps…

The next building was not that far; a short jump across the gap and Genji was able to scale it just as easily, pulling himself over the short barrier at the top with a huff.

Somewhere in the back of his mind his old instructors scolded him sharply, as the noise drew the attention of one already occupying the roof: a tall figure in a black hood.

Genji threw himself back over the side the way he came, just in time to hear the unmistakeable report of a shotgun. Down on the lower roof and behind the nearest obstacle he went, and judging by the lack of continuing gunfire he'd made it before his assailant had seen where he'd gone.

There was no thud of heavy boots on concrete, but shortly thereafter a low voice wafted out from about Genji's level nonetheless. “I should have known better than to expect a ninja to stand and fight.”

 _Yes you should have_ , Genji thought blandly, listening for the voice and creeping around it toward the other side. The figure said no more, but now Genji could hear footfalls, and used them to pick his way through cover accordingly. He stopped when the footsteps did.

“A little late to the party, aren't you? _Shimada_.”

Now there was a name Genji hadn't heard in a while. For the sake of Overwatch's image Genji's connection to his family's business had remained a secret, but he himself was no unseen actor; it was entirely possible someone had seen his given name and dug up his family name on their own. Still he said nothing, knowing the importance of remaining hidden.

“Your friend couldn't do anything to stop Lacroix,” the figure said, and Genji's heart clenched with an old pain. Amélie… “I won't let you get off so easily.”

There was a moment of silence, and then a gun cocked somewhere above Genji's head.

Quick as an arrow he darted away, only barely managing to avoid the shot—how had they gotten up there so quickly, without Genji noticing?! He propelled himself at the stranger, blade in hand, and managed to knock the second shotgun out of the hooded figure's grip.

Black coat. White mask. Now that he'd seen them up close, Genji realized he'd heard of this killer before.

Locking his blade against the figure's remaining weapon, Genji forced the business end away from himself and spoke: “You're the one they call Reaper.”

“And soon they'll call you history.”

Reaper pulled a second shotgun from their coat and fired, catching Genji as he slipped away again. As soon as he was safely in cover he examined the damage with a hiss: his cybernetic body took the blow well, but a few more shots like that and Reaper's threat would be fulfilled.

This time Reaper pursued, firing away at Genji's hiding spot as they approached. Genji had only to deflect the first volley that came after he broke cover, the other seeming to realize that attacking while he was on his guard with his blade in hand would do no good.

Genji tossed a shuriken at his opponent and leaped off the roof, hoping to lose them again. There was no shame in running, especially against an unknown opponent, but Reaper appeared to be hunting down Overwatch agents… Genji would protect his comrades from Reaper forever, if the opportunity presented itself. But Reaper was determined to follow, and only after jumping to the next rooftop and behind cover again did Genji hear the gunfire cease.

“You can't hide from death forever, Shimada,” Reaper growled. Genji simply rolled his eyes and slunk into the shadows. “I'll finish what your brother started, and then I'm going after the rest of your precious friends.”

Genji felt his hand twitch in agitation, a human tic he'd retained in his new body. Few knew his family name; even fewer knew how he had lost it, why he inhabited a vessel of steel instead of flesh.

“You are a former Overwatch operative,” Genji said, from the relative safety of the next roof up. Reaper whirled and brandished both guns, but withheld their fire as they saw Genji's short blade raised.

The list of people entrusted with the knowledge of his past was exceedingly short, and Genji would have risked his life to protect any one of them. But, he thought with a pang as he gazed upon the now-familiar twin shotguns, love and trust could only stretch so far.

“I know all your tricks, Shimada,” Reaper said in a low voice. “You're not leaving this city alive.”

Genji let himself fall from the roof as Reaper fired again, kicking off the side to run along the wall of his assailant's perch; Reaper followed, but could not find a clear shot, shooting blindly in the hope of hitting something. But he was too slow for Genji, who scaled the wall on the other side, drew his sword and dived.

“ _Ryūjin no ken o kurae!_ ”

His first blow knocked the left shotgun from Reaper's grip; his second blow severed Reaper's right hand; with the third he tore Reaper's mask from his face, sending it flying off in an arc, and then it was child's play to restrain his remaining hand and pin him to the wall. The face that glowered back at him was twisted in rage, but Genji saw only where the skin had taken on some sickly, unnatural quality, and—

“Gabo,” Genji said, hating the way his voice shook. “What has happened to you?”

Gabriel Reyes roared his fury, and too late Genji saw that somehow his right hand had grown back. He caught the blast point-blank in the chest, and with a pained snarl of his own had no choice but to fall back, carve a path through the air with his sword and run. Behind him he heard Gabriel emptying his weapons at lightning speed, heard lead collide with metal and brick as he fled.

“I won't stop until each and every one of you is dead!” Gabriel called after him, his voice painfully familiar now without the distortion of the mask. “I'll take back what should have been mine!”

It has always been yours, Genji wanted to shout back. But the lie caught in his throat, and the only vengeance he could manage was that there was no way for Gabriel Reyes to know he had heard every word.


End file.
